as fragile as glass and can be broken with a single mistake
by li'l fat necrosis
Summary: The Godfather was only happy when he was teaching others the rules of hierarchy. Co-written with Skydork. [Town of Salem: Godfather/Executioner]


The Godfather's fingers gripped the rope that bound his hands, giving a weak attempt to see if he properly tied them or not. He cursed loudly in his head when he had to accept that he had, it was almost impossibly tight- no wiggle room or way to escape. Well, wasn't this just great? He was stuck: kidnapped in the middle of the night, tied up in the back of a truck.

Searching for a tool to perhaps cut the rope, he quickly gave up searching. The light in the truck was too dark. Sighing, he tried to figure out where he was- weakly pushing himself to the window of only door. It was dirty, finger prints and smog covering it, but he could see the slightest bit of a house and a red stop sign not too far. Was he still in the town- he didn't recognize any of the features.

In the distant, in the house, a light went off in the upstairs. Carmine cursed again, biting his lip. What was he going to do- he had nothing to protect himself with. Unless he wanted to throw his back out charging god-who-knows-who, he was fucked in this situation. Clenching his teeth, he watched anxiously as the door to the house opened.

* * *

He couldn't help a smirk that passed over his lips, leaning back against the wall of the house when the car pulled into his driveway. It was always nice- having people to do things for you. And the Godfather must have people falling at his feet on a normal basis- couldn't be used to this at all. He almost laughs when the other's pulled out, a bag around his head to cover his face, leaning forward amused.

"Hello, my dear godfather. I would say it's a pleasure, but you know… it's really _not._ Just a shame I had to cover up that handsome fucking face of yours- but don't worry. We'll be better acquainted very soon."

He hauls the other forward by the collar of his shirt, through the open door where he can shove him onto the floor and watch him squirm as he tried to get some semblance of control back- must've been pretty desperate for it. Probably wasn't used to be indisposed like this, not like _he_ was. But he'd learn. Not everyone gets to do what they please and get off scot free without giving up something in return.

"So. Formally, I'd say I'm sorry for this, but… you know. Just measures to be taken. I'm not particularly strong myself- cut out that fucking groaning of yours, you're going to give me a headache. Those are such a bitch to get rid of." He sighs, leaning down so he can pull the cover off the Godfather's face, let him blink open those startlingly wide eyes- it's almost cute.

"So. I suppose I should just get to the point. I'd like a favor from you. It's more a 'you help me, I help you' sort of thing, really. You ready to listen to me, or are you going to struggle some more? Because I'd prefer we stop bullshitting."

The Godfather hissed in pain, heat rising in his back as he struggled to get onto his knees completely. His shoulder blade ached, struggling to handle being tied up. His eyes moved up to the executioner's, squinting to match the man's eyes.

"As would I," he had to bite his lip, swallowing back the urge to curse him out. He hated the feeling of being helpless in people's presences, even alone. It was humiliating, forced at someone's mercy for whatever they want to to do to him. He had to be the top, the humiliator, the reason for them to feel this.. painful emotion.

"I'd feel more trusting, more likely to be agreeable if you were to…" he licked his lips, his hands pulling away from each other as he tried to make a show of what he wanted. "Unbound me."

"Oh?" The Executioner asked, leaning down so he was staring directly into the Godfather's eyes. Slowly, he reached a hand up to brush against the man's cheek, patted it lightly. "If you're a good boy, I might be more lenient about the… bondage. But for now, I'm afraid you're shit out of luck, buddy." he gives the other a smile, harsh and sarcastic, before rising to his feet again.

"So… I have someone I need lynched. Petty little fucker, name of Xavier. Vigilante or some shit. I don't really care. But this is the point- he's a dick. And I want him to pay. The mafia's basically a gun for hire. So… if you're willing to help me out… we can end this conversation here. If not…" he presses his foot up, between the Godfather's legs. "I can always add a little bit of _pain."_

He felt like a child being punished by his parents.

A growl arose from his throat, completely uncomfortable with the touch as he pulled away from him. His body stiffened up, attempting to close his legs. Once he realized that he probably looked extremely unprofessional, he straightened his back, puffing his chest up and pulling his lips into a tight smile.

So, from what he understood, he wanted him and the mafia to kill a vigilante. Could he not take care of him himself- he was certainly capable of kidnapping and killing someone, but yet, he wanted them to. The Godfather briefly wondered why he wanted someone else to- an ex lover? A family member? The ideas were limitless.

"I don't believe treating someone as if they were a child while asking for a favour is the best way to get them to agree," he was barely able not to flinch in pain as he struggled to stand up, his knees almost giving out underneath them. "Respect should be given, _kid._ "

"You should watch who you're calling _kid._ I do respect you- it's why you're tied up. I'm worried for my safety. You could kill me easily. You think I don't know that?" he can't help the cough that escapes his throat as he tries to speak, pulling his arms closer to his too-thin frame, just hoping the Godfather didn't draw attention to his weakness.

The man was such an ass already, completely unwilling to adhere to anything he said. He thought he could _mock_ him and get away with it? What the _hell?_

The Executioner couldn't stop himself from slamming his head against the wall, his face growing hotter and hotter every time the Godfather so much as looked at him " _Stop looking down at me, you fucking prick!"_ he shouted, before pulling his arms around himself again, then raising them to his head and groaning.

"I'm just asking for a favor. You would've ignored me if I didn't do something like this. You're such a dick. I bet it's just killing you not to be in control here. Trying to lash out, show me where the power is. Can't any of you people just _give me what I want?_ Fucking _shit,_ man!"

Carmine wasn't quite sure if he was insane or not- mentally unstable seemed to roll nicely off his tongue. He could practically feel the anger, the instability in his eyes, staring him down. The glossy eyes, willing to do anything.. frankly, he felt almost frightened to be around the man.

He could remember his own few members that had the same exact eyes, but noticeably much more sane. Would the man- no, child, he was much too young, too thin to be called a man. How old even was he? He looked younger than the youngest member of the mafia- sweet little Vita, their forger. She was barely in her early twenties, he had to be in his late teens in the least.

"I do not appreciate the amount of violence you're showing me right now," he forced himself to keep his voice steady, though his voice shook slightly as he noticed the blood leaking from his forehead. He swallowed, growing more and more aware at how utterly insane he possibly was. "Calm yourself down."

"I believe I am in more danger than you at the moment," he huffed out the last bit, flinching back in pain. His bounds only felt more and more tighter, he desperately wished for him to take pity on him and release him.

But he doubted he would.

"C-calm…? I am calm. Perfectly fine. It's all your fault that I was getting worried. Worked up. I don't need to listen to that… that _shit,_ old man. You're not in danger unless you _keep refusing my demands._ You're so used to getting what you want from people, but some of us don't get that luxury! Fuck you! I fucking hate you! All of you! Just… just _leave me alone!"_

He was screaming, completely livid and red in the face, pulling at his hair as he tried to get something- anything that might show that the Godfather was actually human. He couldn't stop feeling that ache though, the pounding in his head, the feeling of something like shame at just how… how upset he was.

He didn't have any thoughts when he dropped to his knees on the floor, glancing up at the Godfather with a muffled, "I just want your help, you fucking imbecile-" crouching and pulling his knees to his chest as he looked the other over. He could let him go… but what would that gain? Rage. The godfather would try to kill him. At the very least, that was…

"Wh-what will you give me if I let you go?" he questioned, sitting forward with a glare. "If it's good, I might be _nice,_ fucker."

The Godfather briefly considered headbutting him and bolting, but he realized he was probably going to be at another disadvantage if he were to do that. His knees ached, almost begging for him to stand up properly or sit down in a chair. He could feel them shaking, so close to completely disconnecting with his bones and popping out completely.

"W-what exactly do you want?" Carmine felt oddly intimidated by his poisonous glare. "I haven't even been given a chance to accept or refuse your demands, so _please-_ learn to give others a chance to speak."

He stifled, holding himself back from giving hissing in pain once again. "It'd be much easier if you had- ah," he bit his lip from the painful, seething ache coming from his back. "H-had filed an appointment to see me and given me and my group some time whether or not this would be worthwhile to do this."

Carmine watched the smaller man get closer to him, his eyes growing with rage and an odd mix of intrigue. "But yet- I-I see I'm in quite a bit of pressure to add this onto my mafioso's worklist.."

"So you're saying yes?" He asked, unable to hold back the disbelief in his voice as he raises an eyebrow, looks over the Godfather. At the nod he receives, he leans back with a hum, noting the way the Godfather's knees shake, the way he's got just the faintest pain in his eyes…

He moves forward with shaking hands, brings them up to grab the rope and work it away from polished hands, trying to ignore the Godfather's disbelieving stare as he rushes to undo the knots and stand up before the other can pull something… "Don't think this means shit," he hisses, trying to pull away as much as he can while still working on the binds.

When the Godfather gets free, flings himself upward without a warning, the Executioner finds himself stumbling back, his body hitting the floor with a thud as he looks up at the Godfather and tries to hide his shaking. "S-son of a _bitch,"_ he hisses, looking up at the mafiaman almost fearfully now that he was… was free. He may be an old fuck, but the Executioner wouldn't deny he probably still had some kick in him.

The Godfather forced himself to keep his voice steady, breathing heavily as to control himself. "I-I do not take kindly to being pressured into things-" he pressed his knees into his kidney, swallowing back the pain of his own as the almost skeletal man gave a loud groan. "That can be said for being held against my will, with some _insane_ belligerent man. Even moreso when the man has decided that he has any right to lay a hand on _me._ "

Carmine's hands curled around the boy's head, pulling his hair back until his neck is completely exposed. "You need to respect those of higher position of you, you'll never get anything you want when you demand and have fits." He hisses, spit spraying from his lips as he leaned into his ear. His free hand tightens up, ready to punish him physically.

Another thought arises in his head, one more fighting in his mind. He wanted to humiliate him, to lower him into a needy and submissive role.. he needed to do just that. An eye for an eye; the ultimate revenge.

"If you move, I'll snap your neck and you'll never get your revenge," he whispered into his ear, pain still managing to come out in an obvious manner as he shakily forced himself off his knees and onto his feet naturally.

He doesn't know if he should test the man's patience, not when he's clearly so aggravated. _And he called me insane,_ the Executioner thought with a hiss, staring up at the Godfather with his eyes narrowed. He shifted his legs slightly, licked his lips. What the _fuck_ was he going to do?

He felt a tingling in his skin, tried to force it down by biting his lip and tensing up as the godfather continues to stare down at him with that _smug fucking grin_ on his face. It's enough to infuriate him, cause him to inhale sharply and snap back, "I don't know how the fuck you expect me to be any nicer than you when you're such a _dick."_

And then, despite the Godfather's warning, he's struggling to move, trying to drag himself away and pull back so the other can't pull anything, but there's a foot slamming into his leg and he's pulling away with a whimpered groan and a sharp cry of pain-

"Get the hell away from me!" he snaps, feeling a tear leaking from one of his eyes as he tries to turn his head away, look away from the Godfather-

He slammed his head against the bottom of the truck with his foot, ignoring the pain he felt as his hand grabbed for the Executioner's hair. "What the fuck did I say?" He kneed down, popping his back out for a moment and kept his hold on him. "I was going to just mess you up a bit- put the fear of god and respect in you, but… you continue to show me no respect. Thus.. like all children, you must be punished."

Carmine grabbed the boy's waistband, sliding them off until they're wrapped around his knees with great difficulty. He looked back up at the boy, noting he was still wiggling around. Swallowing, he repositioned himself until he was completely pinning his legs down.

The Godfather leaned down, his breath still heavy as he tried to catch it. "This is your own fault, kid. All of this could've been avoided if you.. if you just fucking learned some goddamn respect. I want you to understand this, I want you to learn from this.. otherwise, I might have to call on some of the other members to help me teach you some proper respect."

He grabbed his hips, pulling his entrance so it was pressed against his crotch. His hands played around with the outline of his underwear, caressing his hips. Fuck, when was the last time had he done this..? Carmine had done it many times with the other mafia, but.. they were all too willing, almost like prostitutes, to please their superior. They didn't count. He had his wife- but she'd been long since deceased.. It'd be too long, that's obvious.

His eyes scanned over his naked backside, pale and bony like that of a teenage girl. He briefly let his hand release his hair, stroking down his neck and over his Adam's apple. He gave a loud groan, tightening his grip until he heard the boy whimper. Cursing in his head, the grey haired man used his remaining hand to undo his belt and pull it off.

"Don-don't move," he repeated, his breath shaky. He leaned up, grabbing both of the paled skin man's hands and bounded his hands with the belt, trying not to let him see the fact that his hands were shaking.

Once he was satisfied, he looked back down and let his eyes greedily take in the sight. _It's been so long_ , he thought to himself. He tried to repress his thoughts- they were wrong, against everything he had long since stood for. But yet.. his pants grew tighter and his crotch grinded forward against the man.

Just once, he told himself. He would be forgiven.. he-he had needs. The lord would forgive him, he thought.

He couldn't help shaking at the cold air hitting the back of his legs, almost shivering at the feeling- before it was replaced by heat, and something _incredibly fucking hard_ pressing against him, and he tenses up almost immediately. _Oh, fuck no,_ he thinks. _There is no way-_

He struggled to get a grip, but then his hands were tied up and he couldn't help muffling a noise into his chewed-up lower lip, feeling so utterly _humiliated_ at the position. There weren't any words to describe how fucking pissed he was- so he just arched forward and spit at the Godfather. Hell if there was anything he could fucking do- and there was _no fucking way_ he was just going to lie there and let the asshole go to town on his ass, because fuck that shit.

"I'm perfectly capable of respect," he hissed. "I'm twenty-three years old- it's not like I never learned shit, old man. But that doesn't mean I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here. Although, that aside, I should've known you wanted to fuck m- _aah, fuck."_ The last part came out as a hiss, feeling the Godfather's fingers against his impossibly cold skin, warmer than he would've liked to admit. He tried to move his leg, pushing it up against the Godfather's thigh as some poor attempt to gain some sort of control back-

 _Shouldn't have undone those fucking restraints._ He cursed, mentally, barely able to draw his eyes away as the Godfather started to undo his pants, grabbing them at the waistband. The Executioner let out a sharp hiss, glaring up at the man with clear rage in his eyes- but he wasn't going to struggle. Not again, because as much as he didn't want to admit it, the Godfather could've done exactly what he said earlier, snap his neck before he had a chance to think about it.

"Doesn't seem like you're exactly keen on manners yourself, _sir,"_ he growled, adding as much sarcasm as he could to the final word, matching eyes with that of the mafia leader and trying his best not to just… tense up and pull away at how hungry that look was. He was _fucked._ In more ways than one, and hell if he actually wanted it-!

He wanted nothing more than to just shove something into his mouth, to better to keep himself focused. He tightened his grip on the boy's hip, snarling at the boy's words. He thrusted his hips forward, rubbing his growing erection against the man's ass.

Thoughts of his wife, the mafioso, the disguiser… all of them popped in his mind- his experiences with them, they all made him even harder as he took out his erection and let himself give a heavy moan, closing his eyes. The light kisses on his neck from his wife, the mafioso's desperate and pleading touches, the disguiser's filthy kinks involving an alarming amount of lube.. he wondered if this memory of the executioner will be remembered or not.

He opened his eyes, looking down at the boy. Even if he claimed he hated it, insulting him with vulgar words… his body told him otherwise. Even when he had stopped grinding, the boy continued to back himself against him. Moving his hands back up his scalp, he yanked the boy's head back until he was able to see his glossy eyed panting, almost the same look of desperate confusion of trying to place his mind somewhere else.

"Respect," he leaned in, another growl escaping his lips. "Is given to those not only older, but wiser. Always end your sentences with sir, boy. _Never show your disrespect._ "

The Executioner couldn't help letting out a thin whine when his head was jerked back, looking up into the Godfather's eyes and nearly squirming at the lust that was there… along with the anger. It was so thick it was practically overwhelming, forcing a shudder from him. He could feel a hand sliding between his legs, pressing through his underwear and against the head of his cock, before they were tugged down in one quick motion.

" _Fuck,_ " he hissed, shifting as he tried to pull away from the older man, feeling his thighs quivering at the light touches they were being graced with. He wasn't- wasn't used to being in _this_ position, so fucking vulnerable and so tied down… he tried to turn his head away, block out the Godfather's stare as he swallowed down his own fear.

He could feel the Godfather's hands slipping further around his thighs, steadying himself between them in a manner that he couldn't help cringing at. He shut his eyes, tightly, licking his lips as he felt the man's erection pressing so thickly against the now-bare skin of his ass. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny how desperate it was making him, wanting to just be _taken,_ wanting the Godfather to quit _teasing…_ He bucked his hips up against the elder's, trying to pull him closer with his legs that were still fucking pinned down-

"...I… I c-ca- ugh… p-please…" he bit down on his lip as another incredibly _embarrassing_ noise threatened to slip through. Still, it didn't stop the moan from passing his lips as he pushed forward, curling and uncurling his fingers in the restraints. "Fuck me-" he snapped, unable to keep his body from arching up against the Godfather's like a bow. The harsh glare he receives only makes it so much worse as he snaps, " _Fuck me, sir."_

"Good boy," he gave a satisfied chuckle, stroking the tip of his cock teasingly as he pressed further against his ass. Giving another shit eating grin when the executioner underneath him groaned in ecstasy, he brushes his fingers against his neck and jawline. Fingers digging into his hips, turning a dark purple and red colour as he tried to maneuver himself into a slow and steady pace.

His hand continues to tease him, giving a chuckle whenever Carmine manages to hear a soft, pleasured sound emanating from his mouth. It takes almost every fiber in his being not to cackle, to inform the boy of how disrespectful he was being by being so loud.. but he manages to force them all down in favour of listening to the man curse his name.

"You seem capable of learning quickly, boy," he notes after several minutes of silence from his end. "That's very good for you. Otherwise.. I'd have to teach you respect through other means.."

Carmine's eyes lock onto the rope, giving him a rather vindictive idea of wrapping it around his neck and pulling back with him, but quickly decides against it. No- he would show him how to respect through more peaceful, tranquil ways. Chaos would work heavily against him right now. This way, fucking him and reminding him of all the correct addresses and procedures to go through…

This was the best way.

 _Goddammit,_ he cursed, practically wanting to scream when the Godfather finally sunk into him. The pain was overwhelming, tearing him open and slamming in with little to no remorse as the Godfather pulled back and thrust his hips forward again. The Executioner couldn't help letting out a sharp cry, trying to pull himself back, but the grip on his hips was so tight-

And then he felt a sudden shiver run up his spine, a hint of pleasure coursing through his body as he arched and keened, rutting his hips against the Godfather's stomach as he tries to get him to do it again, get him to just thrust into him and make that pleasure hit…

"G-Godfather, please… sir, I need it _harder,_ fuck- I can't- aah!" his words came out as weak gasps, submissive moans that sounded almost _feminine_ to his ears as he moved his legs further around the Godfather's hips and tilted himself so he was stretched so _hotly_ around the Godfather's cock.

He felt like a whore, completely overtaken and writhing underneath the man, legs spread wider than he'd thought possible. It was enough for him to shiver as he tried to swallow another moan, cursing himself for his loudness as he felt the Godfather plunge into him again, his body trembling as he let out a long, gratuitous whine-

The Godfather gave a ragged sound, his hand roughly moving down his hips, fingers scratching and tearing at his thighs before they find his cock. His blunt fingernails digging into the sensitive member, rubbing his thumb over the tips of his head, already soaked with precum. The boy below him moaned, spluttering out words like _fuck_ and _yes._

He quickened his pace, forcibly slamming himself against him without a single care. His breath short, he could only buck forward for a few moments to try and catch his breath. His teeth latched onto the man's clothed shoulder, moaning shakingly. Licking his red lips, he leaned closer to his ear, his breathing heavier than before.

Carmine's tongue traced over the outline of his ear, a light chuckle erupting from his throat. "You're a filthy little whore, aren't you?" Another chuckle, slowing his pace as the boy underneath him gave a desperate moan for him to return to his previous pace. "You're doing so good.. such a good little boy," he paused, a dubious smile playing on his lips. " _Feylinn_."

The look on his face, an odd mixture of pure anger and confusion only turned him on more.

He couldn't keep the _rage_ from flashing across his face, his eyes narrowed as he leaned forward with a "Fuck you-!" slipping from his throat. He felt so fucking _degraded_ , hands bound above his head and legs fucking open as he tries to dig his heel into the Godfather's back, slam it in as rough as he can-

"Don't _call_ me that," he hisses, attempting to pull back with a sudden sense of ferality overwhelming him. His body tensed, clenching tighter around the Godfather as he struggled to gain some semblance of certainty… "Carmine, you son of a bitch, I swear to god- I'm not a fucking _kid_ and I'm not _yours_ either you sick fucker-"

He gasped again as the Godfather rubbed against his sweet spot, his body betraying him by arching up and a low _wail_ escaping his throat. He moans, loudly, unable to keep his head cool any longer as he threw his head back like a fucking animal and let loose a string of moans and curses, practically indecipherable.

"No- C-Carmine, please, I'm t-too hot… need to- goddammit, uhh-"

"Q-quiet," he warned, twisting the light coloured locks of the thin boy. He tossed over the idea of punishing him, to spank or to slap him until he learned his place again.. but he threw out the idea once a release of liquid emptied inside the executioner. Again, he cursed, annoyed with himself for cumming earlier than he wanted to.

Carmine hissed back in pain, his mask of bravado slipping off. He tried to regain his posture, attempting to pull himself out. He failed, unable to stand up as his knees locked in place. _Fuck._ He eased himself slowly onto his back, cringing when a loud popping sounded echoed in the truck, alerting the moaning boy underneath him. He tried to catch his breath again, swallowing back a smile at the moaning and begging for more from below him.

Slowly, the elderly man scratched at the bareback of the man as he attempted to stand up. His body was weak, barely able to stand up properly, and he gave up quickly, holding himself up on his back. The boy's ass still grinded against his body, weakly rasping out his name. His hand still in his hair, Carmine drew his head back to see the exhausted look on his face, his eyes wondering at the man's face and chest. A small smile graced his lips, completely full and delighted with what had just transpired.

"You're so dirty," he smiled, caressing his jawline carefully. "Did you like that? Are you going to behave now?"

"I-" he spluttered, choking on his words as he tried to steady his labored breathing. He couldn't help the movement of his hips as he rubbed his hips against the Godfather's body, still entirely too turned on, trying to further the contact, just… he needed _more,_ was too goddamn desperate to even think, arching up against Carmine still…

"P-please, sir, I've been trying- c-can't behave well, need you to punish me, need you-" he groaned, pulling in a deep breath as the Godfather's hand teased his stomach, moving down his body until he was shaking and groaning, unable to stop his quivering thighs and barely parted lips.

"Carmine, I'm s-so… hnn… p-please, I want… I'm so f-filthy, I need you again, w-want you inside of me…" he gasps, pulling his breath back in shakily and leaning up against the Godfather, enough that he could press his lips against the older man's, almost greedy with the touch… " _Please-"_

Carmine ruffled his hair, giving a light chuckle. He'd already cleaned himself off, wiping his excess semen onto the other boy's jeans. "You've had enough, kid."

He doesn't notice the boy's bound hands, desperately reaching for him to touch him again. A smile appeared on his face again, snorting when his fingers barely managed to grab onto the ruffled part of his slacks. He was obliging for only a moment, letting him rub his knees as he give another pathetic whine.

"You're so needy," he shakes his head, thinking of the mafioso and how he practically mewled like a kitten the first time they both had sex. "Like a filthy whore; tell me, boy- do you do this often? Are you so quick to beg and buck for anyone that gets you on your knees?"

Running a thumb over his lips, wiping the saliva from his lips, Carmine only noted how desperate he truly looked. It was amusing, perfectly amusing. Did the consort do her job solely for this moment- to be able to see them wiggle in pleasure, begging for more of _them?_ He couldn't deny it himself, he very much so enjoyed the feeling.

Looking off to the side of the nude boy, he noticed the rope that was used to earlier tie him up.

A devious thought popped into his mind as he picked it up and wrapped it around his hands.

He wanted to scream at himself for acting like such a _slut,_ letting the Godfather degrade him to the point of being unable to control himself. He sucks in a breath, trying not to shake when a hand touched his thigh. He felt _so fucking sensitive-_ could barely move without sending a jolt through his body, without focusing on the cum splattered across his thighs and leaking down his legs-

"Fuck," he groaned, trying to pull away from those teasing hands and the fingertips brushing over the inside of his thighs. He sucked in a breath, arched away from the Godfather as he tried to struggle out of the bonds on his wrists-

"I don't… Godfather, please," he hissed, whining as he felt the end of something thick and rough underneath his chin. And _dammit, he should've never let the man out of those fucking restraints-_

He tried as much as he could to pull away, rolling over onto his stomach and pulling himself on his elbows over to the door. He dragged in a breath as the Godfather pulled the rope tight around his neck and pressing his mouth against the Executioner's ear…

"Fuck you, man," he spat, pushing back with his legs as he tried to force the Godfather away, but then there are _fingers_ pressing against the curve of his ass, even as the other hand tugs the rope tighter. He couldn't help _writhing,_ not sure if it was from pain or pleasure as two fingers slipped _into_ him, his body already slick and aching as he attempted to arch away…

His hole felt so tight against his fingers, the boy clutching his anus as his fingers greedily dug in deeper and spread the entrance wider with a morbid amount of concentration. Carmine briefly wondered if he was going to cum before he died, or if he'd die without achieving a happy ending. Both scenarios played through his mind, both very interesting.

The boy underneath him continued to try to fight, hot tears running down his face as he cursed- he believed at least, that they were curses; hard to understand someone when a rope prevented them for the most part. Oh well, he'd talked enough earlier. It didn't matter whether or not he got his "last words" or a gurgled out plea. The latter sounded better in his ears though, less whining.

Pulling the rope back, his knuckles turning a pink-white, giving his own groan as his whining soon became quieter and quieter as the walls to his entrance stopped trying to resist him. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to listen to the completely silent truck. His fingers slowly retreated out, sticky and with a rather disgusting looking stain in his cuticles. He scowled, wiping it on the man's shirt once he let go of the rope.

Feylinn's body fell onto the ground with a loud slap, an almost inaudible groan escaping his throat. Carmine lifted his head up by his hair, curiously seeing what the final look on his face was. Tear stains shined on his face, his eyes bloodshot and wide open.

Letting his head drop, Carmine dusted his shirt off. Limping out awkwardly of the truck, he didn't take a second look at the truck, instead, he made a mental note to have the mafioso to look into who the boy wanted gone- Xavier, he believed.


End file.
